10 Things You Love to HATE about Open Water Swimming

A year into this pandemic and we all have found ourselves picking up new activities that we wouldn’t normally embrace.  And while some of you are on your 360th sourdough starter (btw, super jealous), this pool-only swimmer has spent a year doing something I hate most… open water swimming.

10.  Sighting

The cardinal rule of good swimming technique is a stable head and (generally) a neutral neck position.  For you non-swimmers (or crap ones), that means eyes down when swimming on your front for an optimal horizontal body position for buoyancy and balance.  In the open water, swimming point-to-point (rather than wall-to-wall in a pool), you have to check where you are going.  When you are a newbie to open water (or a paranoid “I’m going to die every stroke/what just touched me” kind of open swimmer), the urge to lift the head and look forward is incessant.  For some, it might as well be water polo with no whistle.

Obviously, there are ways to be more efficient at sighting, but there’s nothing like technology to prove who is better at swimming in a straight line.  Combine that with pool swimmers that are delinquent about swimming straight when there’s a GIANT BLACK LINE painted on the bottom of the pool, and you have a smorgasbord of cannon fodder with which to mercilessly tease your swim pals throughout the work day.

9. Limited Shower / Changing Facilities

In an effort to discourage public gatherings on the beach, the leisure and sports department closed shower facilities at public beaches. There are few things more icky than the inability to wash off sand and ocean filth.

Thankfully, you’ve got a few options. Fill a couple extra water bottles and enjoy the trickle of fresh water (while it lasts). Finally, a justified need for that expensive hydroflask – a portable hot shower.

Invest in a fancy-AF portable shower tank and be spoiled for the rest of time. No changing room? No problem. Fairly certain Hong Kongers were glamping before it was cool.

Or rig a shower sink.

Strategy to reduce your home water bill.

8. Chop

The beauty of pools is that flat, glassy surface on which Jesus would have loved to take a stroll.  Pool construction and technology has changed rapidly to “eat the waves” as much as possible to create ideal water conditions throughout a race.  Do you know which race has the worst spot to be in?  Not the 200 fly, but the 4×50 free relay in a short-course pool, if you are behind the front pack.  Every in and out of a flip turn or dive is like fighting a typhoon.

Every once in awhile (thankfully, fairly often in the bays where we normally open water swim in HK), the open water will grant you that pristine mirror-like conditions.  But generally, those lovely ripples that make for beautiful Instagram photos, can be on a scale from annoying to downright Ursula the Sea Monster. 

The worst human being I know, who also happens to be an avid open water swimmer, once told me that chop feels like getting repeatedly slapped across the face.  So now, I just imagine slapping her silly and it brings me some comfort as I’m being rocked by mother nature.

Common types of chop/waves that I’ve experienced (not an exhaustive list):

• Sinus Rinse: Finds your snout every time. Will drip steadily post-swim for minimum 3 hours. Bonus- it’s already a saline solution. Note- not sterile.
• Water Board: No matter which side you breathe to, you’ll drown.
• Colonoscopy Prep: A couple mouthfuls of sludge will clear you out (later) in no time.
• Rolling with the Homies: Gentle waves that promise to be an absolute nightmare on the way back.
• Ship Wreck: Slaps those arms down every single stroke.
• Cast Away: Huge rolling waves where you can no longer see someone swimming less than 10m away.
• Cookie Tosser: The classic washing machine that induces a little (or a lot) of upchuck.
• Black Rain: No matter which direction you look, can’t see a darn thing.
• Death: Praying that we are headed in the right direction and this will all be over soon.

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7.  Wetsuits

Hate them or really hate them? Or learn to tolerate them because they protect you from hypothermia and jellyfish?  Pass me the lube.

If we’ve learned anything this winter season: Italians bulk-buy their lube.

6.  The Irish

Need to deflate your ego?  Swim with an Irish(wo)man.  No matter how badass/brave you think you are, the Irish are crazier.  It’s gotta be the potatoes.

January open water swimming….in Dublin.

At least when they insult you, it’s unclear the word they are actually using so I just smile, nod, and give them the universal hand gesture for… love?

5. Rocks, Ropes, and Boats. Oh my!

As a competitive swimmer, I’ve had my fair share of head-bashing experiences, but generally, these accidents are preventable in the pool if you’re over the age of 6 and/or not a complete idiot (debatable). In the open water, however, obstacles and hazards can pop up out of nowhere. OR, they’ve always been there and you simply weren’t paying attention (back to the idiocy debate).

Nothing induces a string of curses more than being garroted across the face by a barnacled rope, body checked by a rock boulder, or face-smacking into a boat. There was also that time we tried to swim across a minefield of rocks at Green Egg Island, Clearwater Bay…. in 6-inch water depth. Yup, back to the idiocy debate.

4.  Jellyfish (and other miscellaneous sea and plant life)

Let’s play a game.

Would you rather:

a. punch a jellyfish and feel your fingertips slide across bumpy, slimy skin narrowly missing going head first into the tentacles, or

b. wear a seaweed blanket like a cape for 15m in an open water race and get sea lice stings all down your back?

Would you rather swallow a mouthful of:

a. Red tide that look and feel like boba (only not delicious and tasty), or

b. Algae spunk that resembles millions of giant loogies (aka phlegm wads) suspended in time?

Would you rather swim through dark water that was later discovered to be:

a. Gasoline (aka petrol)

b. Squid Ink

c. Lion’s Mane jellyfish + baby shark below

A belly full of seafood has always brought me joy – I’d just prefer to not ingest my 12-course feast mid-3km swim and without a glass of champagne.

3. Water You Can’t Drink

Don’t trust it. Death by shark or microbe lurks with every stroke.

Extracted from swimsuit… after the 2nd rinse.

2. Open Water Swimming with Other Pool-only Swimmers

Pro – Slightly windy, possibility of rain? CANCEL IMMEDIATELY. Like-minded cowards think alike.

Con – Fitting a wetsuit to extreme Type A personalities. #muteswhatsappnotifications

Pro – When you hulk out of your wetsuit, those Type As figure out the best workable solutions. #unmutenotifications

Con – The ones with more open water experience / are less cowardly (see #6 The Irish) think it’s HILARIOUS to play footsie with you to test your reaction. #eggplanteggplantEGGPLANT

1. Frenchmen 

Can’t sight.  Can’t follow routes.  Can’t follow instructions.  Can’t understand them.  Ditches you to swim off to sea to find another group of swimmers or snorkels mid-sprint.  Simply – the worst.

You know what’s worse than the open water for a (formerly) pool-only swimmer like me?

… the gym.

… Frenchmen are still the worst.

Christmas in July

Living abroad means you field curious questions about life in America and American values and beliefs.  Often this is an arduous process of discussing complicated politics, controversial interpretations of history, demographics, etc., BUT people are ALWAYS curious about what Americans stuff into their big houses.

I’m convinced that my pack-rat ways of “save that, we will use it later” (aka never use it) stems from having ample storage to put something out of sight, out of mind.  If you are ever in need of a ketchup packet that’s decades old, I’m your (wo)man.  Valuable closet space solely-dedicated to holiday decorations is definitely an American value that stays with American expats abroad (even those with meager square footage).  

Are you looking for an excellent way to get more mileage out of those decorations used only once a year?  Continue on, Friend.  Continue on.

Big Brother complexes learned from a young age

Hello from the Other Side

Ready or not…

Here I come!

Before you call child protective services, we did not put this stunning display of masterful ingenuity in our 3-year-old Evil Spawn’s room. [We aren’t that terrible… yet.]  It went into our giant baby TacoKat’s room when we left for a 24-hour staycation.  She didn’t discover it for more than 48 hours AND wouldn’t have found Pillow Elfie without our help.  Yup, for 3 nights she slept on him.  GREAT use of Christmas decor year-round (and necessitating therapy for which we don’t have to pay) – SCORE!

Merry Christmas, TacoKat!

Love,

Your Family of Eggplants

Hong Kong Island 12 Peak Challenge

I should probably start by saying, I don’t hike. Like ever. I consider any elevation change on land as “hiking,” which pretty much means I “hike” every time I step out our front door in Hong Kong. Add that to 90% humidity and tropical temperatures for at least 9 months of the year, I usually arrive back home from a 10-min grocery shop looking like I ran two marathons. Even Evil Spawn knows that our family’s everyday wear includes a “sweat rag.” When your daughter plays “house” by wiping down her stuffed animals with a sweat rag, you know you’re creating invaluable memories.

Hippo, you are sooo schweaty!

My most vivid (painful) memory of hiking is when Money Bags and I randomly decided to hike Half Dome in Yosemite National Park, a 17-mile monstrosity whose zenith involves scrambling up a steep granite rock face with steel cables and wooden planks. In your 20s, you believe that buying new hiking shoes and walking around your neighborhood twice is excellent preparation and sufficient “breaking in” of your shoes. Clearly, I’m a professional.

There’s nothing more humbling than being passed by little girls with pigtails and old men in Birkenstock sandals as we hobbled back into the campgrounds 13 hours later (the official website says it takes most people 10-12 hours). I distinctively remember barely bringing enough water and food on the trail as we ravaged the campground cafeteria that only had salisbury steak left before promptly passing out. Clearly, we are also idiots.

Half Dome 2007

What, snow?

This seems super secure.

After Chinese New Year, when all the COVID-19 preventative measures were rolled out, schools were closed, and daily life as we knew it changed forever, we needed a (safe) outlet to de-stress and stay healthy. Our Scottish swimming friend, Glenfiddich ScotcHK, suggested that we do The Peakery’s Hong Kong Island 12 Peak Challenge. Being the reliable, good friend that I am, I vehemently said I wouldn’t commit to anything, but ya, sure, I’d hike the first one with her.

While Hong Kong may be one of the most densely populated places in the world, 70% of its landmass is green space of countryside and mountains. You can step outside of your VERY urban neighborhood and within a 5-min walk or bus ride, find yourself (lost) on a trail surrounded by trees and sharply walking uphill. In July, this means a slow and painful death march of hyperhidrosis and being sucked dry by mosquitoes. In February, however, with Chinese factories at a COVID-19 lockdown standstill, this season’s winter air in Hong Kong has been uncharacteristically clear.

I was just waiting to pull my usual MO and be a quitter, but each Saturday for the next 6 weekends, I found myself on a new trail, discovering a very different view of Hong Kong Island. While I had hoped that there would be escalators built into the side of the mountains (it is Hong Kong, after all), each trail was unique and a much-needed respite from the stress cloud that hung over our heads. And while I hate to admit it – because it gives Money Bags the right to say “I told you so” – I actually enjoyed hiking. (Now I feel dirty from uttering those words.)

We grouped our peaks into the following hikes:

1. High West
2. Violet Hill and The Twins
3. Victoria Peak
4. Jardine’s Lookout, Siu Ma Shan, Mount Butler, Mount Parker
5. Mount Nicholson and Mount Cameron
6. Mount Collison and Shek O Peak

For the sake of brevity (and your sanity, as the reader), Money Bags built an interactive map to document our adventures. Click on the map to view (each icon has multiple photos).

Lessons learned from the trail:

1. Never trust Money Bags to navigate unless you enjoy being an elephant caught on a goat path. #imminentdeathbyEagleScout
2. There’s nothing more daunting than looking up through sweat-drenched lashes to see the 1200+ steps of The Twins disappear into the clouds.
3. There’s nothing more uncomfortable than the creepy caress of young bamboo.
4. Ribbons tied to trees are evidence that someone has (hopefully) survived going off piste. Maybe.
5. Wearing a hat / visor serves as a helmet for low-hanging branches.
6. TacoKat is faster at hiking while hungover.
7. Slope maintenance service stairs are not always a through path.
8. When in doubt, slide down on your butt.
9. For every peak completed, you earn a bottle of prosecco. For every mini peak completed, you earn a bottle of prosecco.
10. The British word for “hiking” is “walking.” (So what’s the British word for “walking”? “Drinking”?)
11. I still get passed by little girls in pigtails and old men in sandals.

Next (stupid) adventure: open water swimming.

CinnaYUM – Guest Post by TacoKat

TacoKat here.  I have been waiting for this moment for over 4 years!! My very first, and most likely last, guest blog post.  How fitting that it is on a topic that is very near and dear to my heart (aka stomach).  CINNABON!!!

What’s not to love about a giant piece of bread rolled and filled with butter and cinnamon sugar and topped off with a pornographic white glaze of cream cheese frosting?  Food porn is my preferred method of porn if you don’t count the smutty books that I read on occasion (MoneyBags would probably disagree seeing as I have severely skewed our “recommend for you list” on our shared Kindle account).

This love affair started at a very young age.  Most children hoarded their red packets of money given out at Chinese New Year with glee in their eyes and hope in their hearts.  My red packet money was long ago spent during the previous year.  Promises made to my mother that I would pay her back each time we visited the mall, if only I could borrow against my future earnings so that I could satisfy my belly with my favorite treat – you guessed it – Cinnabon.

In fact I was normally in the hole, having eaten much more during the year than my measly red packets could cover.  Enter childhood gambling – bầu cua cá cọp – the gateway game that leads to Vegas and having Hawaiian Punch Lips almost sell you for a watch and a bottle of vodka, but I digress – back to the food.

When it was announced that Hong Kong was going to get our very own Cinnabon it was a game changer.  I no longer had to hop on a plane to get my favorite morsel of heaven.  When we found out that it would be located on the dark side (Kowloon) we decided to make it into a family adventure.  Now that the Evil Spawn – aka Fist of Fury – aka Giant Eggplant – is obsessed with going to new MTR stations Mom and Dad decided to appease both the children in the household with a trip to Cinnabon.

Pro tips:

1.  Get there early – so early, in fact, that the gate to the store is not yet open.  This will ensure that you will be on edge for 20 minutes each time they raise and lower the gate, taunting and teasing all of the poor souls waiting in line.

**Not those poor souls who are so far back in the line that they are being held in a different section in the mall.  Suckers.

2.  Bring a friend – there are so many rules and limitations that you don’t want to be caught unaware.   Only 2!  As if!

3.  Don’t let the pesky coronavirus keep you from living your life.  Cinnabon is life!

Sharing is caring! I will happily share the inside of a Cinnabon with you.  I know what you’re all thinking… that’s the best part!!  Ha, you would be mistaken.  I much prefer the golden outer layer that isn’t all squishy.  This just means most of us would be perfect Cinnabon partners.  Just look how happy Evil Spawn is.

Now if only Taco Bell would come to Hong Kong, my life would be made.  My colon is undecided in this matter.

MTR Adventures

I was taught from an early age not to EXPECT presents on a holiday. In fact, I think my parents went out of their way to only give a gift on only benign, ordinary days and purposely withheld gifts on Christmas/birthdays so that we wouldn’t turn into greedy little turds (joke’s on them… we are definitely still turds).

As parents whom are both lazy and stingy, we’ve adopted this rule into our overall “treat your first child like it’s your third” parenting strategy so Evil Spawn expects nothing but “our love” on holidays. Parenting tip: this saves a ton of money and really lowers the bar of parental success in the eyes of your children. All you have to do is exist and you get credit: #participationtrophyforparents. There is one loophole to our gift-giving rule: if it’s homemade and no other child in their right mind would enjoy the gift, it’s acceptable. In steps MoneyBags.

For those of you unfortunate enough to have had a conversation with my husband for longer than 2 minutes, you know that he is…. an acquired taste. It’s a great barometer for meeting new people. If they can actually follow along/participate in whatever inane topic MoneyBags brings up from Reddit, we can (possibly) be friends.

Naturally, MoneyBags’ Evil Spawn has a hereditary gravitational pull to these unconventional interests. What 3-year-old would choose as her “favorite toy” the grainy MTR train maps MoneyBags printed and laminated for her singular Christmas gift from her parents? Lamination gives it an elevation of class rather than looking like an afterthought. Like I said, those low expectations bars are easy to step right over when they are on the floor.

Evil Spawn is obsessed with memorizing MTR stations and the corresponding tile colors in the physical location. She can tell you every station, in order, that you’ll pass through on the way to my work, which includes 2 train transfers and 15 stations. For family outings on the weekends, she doesn’t beg for Bollywood for Banshees or Tumbling for Tiny Terrors, but for an “adventure” to check out the MTR station of her choice. Thrilling, I know.

With the Coronavirus prevention measures shutting down many of the children’s activities, our child’s favorite past time remains untouched – or dare I say, ENHANCED – because with lower ridership, she’s almost guaranteed the “window seat” of her choice on every train.

Three weeks ago, it was Taikoo Shing where she discovered a new playground and had a loverly dim sum lunch. Two weeks ago, it was Tin Hau where she discovered yet another playground and had a satisfying lunch of Din Tai Fung dumplings (sense a theme here?). Your child may dream about princesses or superheros, but MY heathen dreams about chowing on dumplings and the MTR song on infinity loop.

yes, that’s MoneyBags trying to sleep

Last weekend, Evil Spawn had been itching to discover MTR’s newest station to open: Kai Tak.

Octopus ready.

This is essentially a massive redevelopment of the old airport land, and very near my work. When this connecting line is complete, I will be able to cut my commute by more than half. So, we packed snacks, MTR maps, and duck masks to spend the morning traveling to Kai Tak.

And lucky girl, this is what she found at Kai Tak!

Bet no other kid has been able to see over that wall.

She’s a wild one, fer sure.

Living dangerously, playing chicken. Dare to swerve.

Spoiler alert, Children. There ain’t no Santa. There’s something/someone better: GRANDPARENTS.

Hong Kong – The New Normal

We’ve received so many inquiries from friends and family about our well-being these past months, that I’ve nearly made a meme (like I have the tech skills for that…) of the perfunctory response “yes, we are fine.” But considering the unprecedented events that have impacted daily life here in Hong Kong over the last 8 months, perhaps a meme is not an acceptable update? Like I need ANOTHER reason to lose friends… (Family, you stuck with us.)

“Sorry that we have designated you our foreign correspondent/Christiane Amanpour but are the effects of coronavirus in Hong Kong as bad as the media has reported?” – BK

My take on the situation, which is in no way an expert (or even legitimate) opinion:

It has put a damper on daily life, but I wouldn’t say we (and the majority of the population) are in real danger. I wear a mask out on public transport more as a social pressure (serious side-eye if you aren’t wearing one – especially if you are “Asian” and should know better) than a true belief that it’ll stop any infection. The nice thing is it keeps you from touching your nose and mouth (particularly little kids) so I imagine that helps. It also makes everyone else wear masks, so if they are sick, it’s probably helping to stop the spread of colds and regular flu.

The mask shortage is very real though, and the most vulnerable populations like the elderly poor aren’t able to get any or are putting themselves more at risk by constantly re-wearing them. There’s no way you can lecture a Hong Konger that wearing a dirty mask (or a mask at all) is fairly ineffective from stopping infection. The memory of SARS, even though nearly 2 decades ago, is still pretty fresh. If they feel safer and healthier with donning a physical barrier, who am I to question their choice? In true Hong Kong fashion (… literally fashion), I find myself admiring the types and styles of other people’s masks as if it’s the newest accessory to stylize your outfit. During our family flu shot outing (I occasionally display signs of responsible motherhood), the nurse commented on the stylish color and fit of my mask. I was both appalled and impressed when she remarked, “Is that Korean-made?” as if I had the latest mink handbag.

The threat of the virus does make people practice better public hygiene, but it is interesting watching someone sneeze or cough and the reactions of the people around that person. If you weren’t a germaphobe already, this experience will make you a bonafide one. Thankfully, due to SARS, the city itself is very clean and disinfected regularly (now even more so). Though perhaps putting 2-3 layers of plastic on top of buttons is a little overkill?

Schools are closed until at least after the Easter holidays in mid-April. I have to be in the office/school 3 days a week and two days work from home, creating home learning that we “deliver” on the regular school timetable. Many of our families are out of Hong Kong with some not located in a suitable timezone so it’s a lot of extra work with potentially questionable results. I am impressed by the content that our teachers have created and the determined zeal with which our students have embraced this alternative delivery of learning. I can’t help but wonder if this mode of “teaching” will be everyday reality in the not-too-distant future rendering my current iMovie skills and seductive voiceovers into serious relics. Students with high-stakes exams are (understandably) worried since this is primetime preparation for the public exams in April and May, and they already lost 2 weeks of instruction due to the school closures in November due to the protests.

Evil Spawn is a bit stir-crazy since most of the kids’ activities and play areas have been shut throughout the city, except for public parks. Thankfully, this isn’t the height of summer where it would be too hot to stay outside for long periods. But even as a little kid, she can sense the panic and tenseness that something has drastically changed, and you can tell in her unsettled demeanor that she feels some of the stress of it. She’s more whiny, clingy, and prone to irritable lashing out than normal – or she’s just 3-years-old. She’s adjusting pretty well considering her idea of a great day is eating, sleeping, pooping, and going to the park. Now she just does some of those activities with a cutsie disposable panda or duck face mask. She has finally displayed some preference for “style” now that she dictates which animal mask she’d prefer for the day to go with her distinct 90s couture.

There is definitely panic buying that clears the grocery shelves for a few days, but I remember seeing that everywhere else in the world when there’s a hurricane, big snowstorm, etc. It’s absolutely essential that you use what little space you have in your flat to stockpile a lifetime’s worth of toilet paper supply, you know, just in case… 🙂 Hong Kong loves a good queue, so if you see someone else stockpiling instant noodles, you damn well better too. To be fair, we should ALL be stockpiling instant noodles, simply because YUM YUM. The only thing that is in actual shortage is the face masks and hand sanitizer. I’ve finally found my handy-craft calling with homemade hand sanitizer of crappy Russian vodka (because the good stuff just won’t cut it!) and aloe vera gel.

The problem is that if we are at DEFCON 1 in the minds of most people, with relatively low numbers of infected, at what point do you deem it safe? It is quite easy to get swept up in the hysteria and sensationalized panic of it all, but we really need to keep a level head. On the other hand, I totally get the precautions that we are taking because – like good classroom management – it is easier to be more strict at the start and then loosen the restrictions later, rather than try to rein in a lax approach too late. Limiting border traffic and imposing the mandatory 2-week quarantine on anyone coming from mainland China did result in the intended effect of significantly reducing numbers of foot traffic back and forth. I am a little ashamed to admit that I feel safer for it. After the protests, people are now more inherently distrustful of the government (or at least see them as making one blunder after the other), so when there’s no head to the chicken, the body just runs around hysterically with no direction, flapping its wings.

Personally, we are just trying to be sensible and prepared in our approach (getting face masks when we can and paying attention to essentials we need in the house), but are trying to stay above the hysteria and panic. We are relatively healthy (not too old or too young with pre-existing conditions) so the likelihood of contracting the virus and dying is pretty low. Really, the threat of becoming a social pariah and causing a building evacuation for fumigation is a much bigger incentive to WASH YOUR HANDS. Nobody wants to be one of these red dots.

Now, I can lament all I want about how this virus and the preventative measures to slow its spread is a huge inconvenience to me and my family, but at the end of the day, we need to remember that there are people DYING. Whole families and cities are being destroyed by this outbreak. We can bitch and moan about when and how we should have closed the borders, and oh my god, why would all those people evacuate if they know they can spread the disease?

What do we think would happen if tomorrow they tried to shut down New York and impose mandatory house quarantines where only one person per family can leave the house every other day due to an unknown sickness that’s killing your neighbors? How many millions would rush to escape New York? How quickly and orderly do we think Americans would respond to this type of crisis? Cue: pandemonium chaos WITH guns. Yikes.

A word of advice: count your blessings, tuck your children in, lavishly use your toilet paper. But before any of us opens our mouths and says something snide about China, Asian people, customs/governments/policies that we disagree with, remember that we are damn lucky to be in a position of privilege where likely our biggest stress about this disease is watching the infections monitor tick up – rather than burying our family.

Let’s all practice what my mother always said: “If you don’t have anything kind to say, don’t say anything at all.” In other words, don’t be a d*ck. Pretty sure that’s what she really meant.

Italian Toilet Seats – Christmas 2019

It’s been over 4 years since our last post, and in the spirit of new year’s resolutions, we are committing to starting up our blog again (every 4 years).

Some things have happened since December 2015. We created an Evil Spawn, a now 3-year-old eggplant whom will continue to experience serious hardship for the rest of her life with us as parents. TakoKat moved to Hong Kong just in time to be flatmates with Evil Spawn. We have traveled to lots of places and eaten copious amounts of food. Both MoneyBags and I are neither WoMen of Leisure because we have jobs (that we love) and we have a child, which eliminates any potential for leisure.  We are happy and somewhat healthy.

See what I did there? Gave a complete update of our lives with absolutely no details. You’re welcome.  Here’s a nifty map of all the places Evil Spawn has been to since being birthed, which should suffice as a crude, rude, and lazy update.

We’ve just returned from Italy because we decided that if we were going to travel to somewhere cold for the holidays, it might as well have steaming bowls of pasta, cheap wine, and streets that make you feel more “cultured” just by walking on them. We are also big fans of visiting places in the off season – we detest people and paying top price for anything except food – so we adventured to Naples, Amalfi Coast, Sicily, and Rome for this holiday season. And after our 2.5-week adventure, I just have one thing I have to say: Italy, what’s up with the no toilet seats?

Evil Spawn is mildly potty-trained (i.e. she’s a throne-sitter – inherited family trait), and our long drives through the Italian boot made me hanker for the days when she would happily poop in her pants. We haven’t exercised in awhile, but no amount of lifting weights could have prepared us for trying to hover-squat-pee a squirming 3-year-old in 7 layers of winter clothes in a cramped cubicle with a sticky floor. Like most things in our life, we gave up trying after the first day, and cringed in horror as she man-handled the filthy rims and precariously teetered on the toilet bowl edge, happily singing Jingle Bells in Cantonese as loud as possible.  But seriously though, why bother installing the toilet seat lid just to cover the bare rim?  Hong Kong has ruined my tolerance for bathroom filth and we may or may not have encouraged Evil Spawn to regress in her potty-training proficiency as a result.  Saw-wee, Ba-by.

Parenting tip, when there’s no toilet within 100km and they need to pee, have them request a song for the Money Bags jukebox.  Free is free, Kid.  Just like this blog site where I can’t figure out how to rotate this video.  Free is free, Kids.

For those parents that keep saying parenthood gets more fun and easier as your kids grow, are just big fat liars.  I miss the potato-phase where Evil Spawn would just sit, do nothing, and most importantly, not STEAL MY FOOD.  At least she enjoyed painting herself with red sauce, green sauce, and “clear sauce” (vongole).  Absolute.  Heathen.

Oh, here are the obligatory family photos.

And the occasional decent shot.

 

Confirmation that she is indeed my spawn (generational double-jointed thumbs up).

In conclusion, Italian winter wind + Aquafor butt cream for chapped face = GOOD TIMES.

TakoKat, because she is also eggplant, insisted on being featured in this blog post.  Here you go.

Jolly. Happy. Merry.

So when we spammed our friends/family with our “holiday” card and family newsletter this year, we got only 2 types of responses.

1.) Dead silence.

2.) This video.

Mission accomplished.

To view a sampling of our family portrait session: scroll, hover, click, or check the trash cans of any family member.  We won’t torture more people by posting our brush script novel of a newsletter (… and also so we don’t become total social/professional pariahs).

End of the world as we know it

Money Bags not a hero.

Swimmers make terrible runners

Hiking in HK

King Kong the witch is dead

Lunch

High-stakes strip poker

Family portrait

Liberal family

Bjorn for superheroes

Nap time

Behind the scenes

Meditation is not the answer

Awkward…

Roomy and comfy

NBD

Hangry

Cat and mouses

Multi-genre film

Alien porn

Happy 21st Birthday, Judas!

Dear Judas,

Even though you moved away with no remorse about how you trampled the hearts of all those Hong Kongers that love you, we didn’t want you to think we forgot your momentous 21st birthday.  MOTY and I wanted to make sure you ushered in this new chapter of your life pampered and well-fed.  And of course, we charged it on your credit card.  You’re welcome!

Love, Mayhem and MOTY

We started the night on a twangoo (or it is twamgoo, twatgoo, twafgoo…) 2.5-hour spa visit.  I swore off the likes of Groupon but it is hard to resist a HK$4,854,789 value for only $99! Especially when we make Judas pay for it (we have her eternal consent after all).  Followed by a leisurely, fancy steakhouse dinner at Shore.  All the other Patrons were so jealous that we had the best table, they actually asked to be reseated in hopes of finding a better table.  Poor schmucks.

Well this is awkward…

That Judas is such a lush!

Money Bags the Pork Thief

Indecent without her robe

Boom?

Too vain

Not creepy at all…

Couples’ facials

Judas’ eyes are getting bad in her old age

Double-fisting

Can’t get enough of the bubbly

Greedy

Loves her pork and wouldn’t share!

Manners, Judas! Don’t lick your plate clean!

Birthday candle

Why thank you!

Or course, it’s not a birthday without singing the birthday song.  Our “unplugged” rendition drew a few stares even though we tried to keep it a private affair.  Needless to say, Judas enjoyed her first taste of alcohol at her 21st bday dinner.

It’s entirely possible that people thought we were honoring the death of a friend.  Or holding a ritual seance/sacrifice.  Not really that far from the truth…

Just another day in paradise.

Los Pollos Hermanos – Outward Bound HK 2015

Money Bags and I often disagree on what we think is fun.  I like to watch marathons of GG, P&P, and AofGG.  Money Bags likes to hike and be kind to others.  We have very different priorities…

Back in March, he along with a scurvy group of miscreants, set out to do the Hong Kong Outward Bound orienteering race that involves things likes swimming with your shoes and bike helmet and run in the woods (what the hell is wrong with you people?).  Our Ezcalatorr band mate, Smash Scrivener, put together a little video from their race.  Safety  precautions were at the highest HK standards (aka death at every turn) and they managed to pummel the crap out of the other teams achieving 2nd place!

Obviously they must have cheated, or ate their competition.  My vote’s on the latter.